


Batman: The Legend's Tale

by ScottCloud



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Catwoman (Comics), DC Animated Universe (Timmverse), DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Batman - Freeform, Comedy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25437940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScottCloud/pseuds/ScottCloud
Summary: See the Dark Knight through the fresh eyes of the first Robin and discover a unique if not exaggerated perspective of this dark and legendary hero who can still inspire the young, if not the young at heart.Deeply inspired from Batman: The Animated Series but loosely part of its continuity, this is a tale from young Richard (Dick) Grayson's perspective of the Batman who he views with awe and reverence shortly after becoming Robin, the first Boy Wonder.But this is also a tale about the Dynamic duo who refuse to grow up and believe that 'Crime Fighting,' is a career that's supposed to last forever....
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Batman: The Legend's Tale

The Legend’s Tale

By That8992Batguy

For my younger sister,

Who gave me the idea and the confidence to write it.

'Surrounded, the sky was on fire. The Batmobile tore through the streets like a predator cloaked in black, billowing smoke. Rockets, sharp tongues of fire, and missiles tethered to tendrils of smoke closed in on the swerving bat vehicle, the familiar emblems to the streets of Gotham emblazoned on its static alloy wheels between spinning tires and followed by the heavy rolling tanks and jeeps that had zeroed in on their prey.

There was no chance-for them!

The deadly artillery engulfed the vehicle in orange flame which only made it look all the sweeter when it emerged from the expanding fireball, like a metal bat tearing away from its flaming reins.

Bringing its own concealed weaponry to bear it made short work of its pursuers, drifting and counter steering between the flaming rubble, it released a volley of missiles into the first tank before fishtailing behind the blurry cover of flame it next breathed fire from its heavy machine guns disabling an armored jeep.

The Batmobile charged after its next attacker, narrowly missing a tank's mortar shell by mere inches as it zoomed over its low canopy, the armored vehicle it set its sights on deciding to veer out the way rather than dare a game of chicken with the formidable vehicle. A spinning disc mine slid out from under the car's chassis and magnetically attached itself to the fleeing jeep, exploding and sending it spinning up from a pillar of smoke and fire.

From the impossibly large tank tearing into the road after it, like a ravenous beast, more mortar shells streaked between the low, black vehicle as it narrowly managed to dodge the speeding projectiles that overshot it. But the high tech and sleek Batmobile deployed its high intensity laser from its rear compartment as a tight stream of red light flashed across the tank's turret, painting its lower half in a glowing molten orange that sent the turret and its barrel sliding clean off its body like a sheet of ice.

Victorious, the Batmobile charged down the crater strewn road towards an oncoming horde of tanks and their twisting rockets, a lone speeding renegade against an army of thousands, but a glimpse from its almost opaque canopy betrayed a smirk of confidence and daring from the driver's mouth. The wondrous hero of Gotham was but a boy barely reaching double digits in age, a dashing, unstoppable hero for the people cloaked in the stuff of legend and mystery and whose name was….'

"Young Master Richard!"

I heard our butler yell. He was more surprised than upset.

"Have a care, young sir," he began like as if the starch was in his throat and not in his dorky clothes. "You need not hear it from me to know Master Bruce would be most displeased if he found you gallivanting after crime without him. And especially in his preferred vehicle of choice."

I didn't know what the butler meant by all that but I could guess, so I vaulted out of the driver's seat of the most coolest, sickest vehicle ever created. No one could've resisted it, better than any Corvette or exotic car I had the poster of on my bedroom wall.

"You know I don't go by that name, Alfred. When this Domino's over my eyes I go by my code name," I said thumbing at the mask that covered the orbits of my eyes.

"So I've heard before from the other much bulkier adolescent lurking about this cave," I think he was trying to make a joke but then he made up for it with what he said next. "But I suspect even the Boy Wonder would not object to keeping his strength up with a secret weapon referred to as 'Brownies' before his evening of sneaking about and other such dubiousness."

He held a silver tray stacked with the so called, 'Brownies', if that actually was what they were but they certainly smelled legit.

It's funny you know, Alfred in his three piece suit and spats always seemed to dress very similar to the bad guys we brought in and this wasn't the first time he would offer certain treats before our nightly patrols. I figured it was probably poison that made his stuff taste so good. So I would take small amounts at a time to build up my immunity, the Boss probably did the same.

It was like those old movies I used to watch where the detective would hire a butler assassin to keep attacking him at random so that he could never lose his edge.

My eyes narrowed behind the white slits of the domino mask, a frightening sight I was certain, as I sampled one of the poisoned 'Brownies'. I had managed to deduce that Alfred was that Ninja Butler Assassin, only he was too clever to ever actually show it but I knew.

And 'He' knew, that's why he kept him around I figured, he helped him keep his edge.

"Robin," I heard him call my name, his voice was like cold fire and his appearance did not disappoint, like a living shadow that carved a body for itself from out of the rocks and darkness of the cave, this was the Boss. The single most coolest, greatest, awesomest entity that prevented Gotham City…scratch that, the whole world from taking that long kiss goodnight.

He was my partner in cleaning up this back water town from the freaks and weirdos who thought they were bigger and badder than him, but let's get one thing straight right here and now: nobody and I mean nobody is badder than the Batman.

He told me to get in the car, and there was no if's or buts in his voice, it was all business from here on out and that suited me just fine. To ride with us meant you had to play rough but this wasn't a game, it was life and death. A thrill of the hunt, where every split second decision you made could be the one to seal your fate. But not for him though, he was bullet proof, not like that cheap trick from Metropolis, he was legit bullet proof. Not to mention fire proof, sword proof, missile proof, ballistics proof, explosion proof, laser proof, dog proof, meteor proof, shark proof….

Well you get the idea.

"Do be back before breakfast, young sirs. You are aware that despite being English, I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of serving brunch as your first meal of the day."

That was another of Alfred’s weird remarks I never entirely understood, whatever this thing called 'brunch' was, it sounded dangerous, like 'crunch', but we ate danger for breakfast!

Finally we were off; the trailblazing exhaust of the Batmobile was Gotham's only shining light of hope for a city that was perpetually on the brink of madness.

Our destination was the warehouse district as we cut through the city streets, Gotham appeared like an evil wizard's castle build atop the boiler room of the Titanic. The Boss filled me in on the details, something about some mobster's shipment of weapons and explosives being strong armed away from them by a super criminal. A super criminal from Arkham Asylum, Gotham's own unique brand of crazy mixed in with all kinds of nuts. He told me to 'settle in,' it was going to be a 'long night'. Which translates to 'be alert' and 'stay sharp'. Oh, and be ready for a lot of 'butt kicking'.

We staked out the Dixon Docks along the lower west side of the Gotham River, it wasn't long before we found what we were looking for: A warehouse already broken into and crates already being carted out into a truck. The only difference was it almost all looked legit; these were dock workers going about their business even if it was after hours. Not uncommon to have to pull a late shift in order to keep up with the work; but all while wearing top hats, propeller caps, wedding tiaras and chieftain war bonnets?

Yeah, didn't think so.

Cat walking along the roof, we found our preferred point of entry, the skylight, as we rained down shards of foggy glass and lead, He came down like a flood of night against the interior overhanging lamps, protesting against light itself which meant it was my cue to act as I swung in behind him from my grapple, just like old times.

Only this time it would work, this time I would be able to catch them and we would all be safe….

He was counting on me, so I precisely timed and tossed my Shurikens into the flood lights causing each section to be taken back by the dark while below just before each section went out I could see Him stalking each worker, overcoming them and curing them from the spell of the ridiculous headgear that was forcing them to work. He would stealthily come up behind them or on top of them and a tiara or top hat would be quickly removed before pitch black would come and hide whatever happened next.

Lights out, boys and girls, you know you earned it.

One flood lamp remained over a pair of two crooks who were not controlled but were dressed like they were from those mornings shows where the adults would pretend to act like they were kids. You know the ones, when there was no more of the good cartoons left to show that morning, right?

Only these guys were carrying some nasty looking shotguns that looked way out of place to their silly getups. They were wide, carried on short, stick like legs and looked like even gravity wanted to squash them. The Boss could take these guys, no sweat but we were the class act unlike these bozos and as they huddled back to back under the spotlight shaking, I came down hard on one of them with my heel riding his face. The other turned his weapon on me but I only smiled at him as if to politely remind him that I was one half of ‘A Dynamic Duo,' and always would be no matter what.

The whites of his eyes against the darkness would have been enough to cause any sane person to drop the gun and give up, but Tweedle-Dee, or was it Tweedle-Dum, yeah definitely 'Dum' still turned on Him with his best angry face which wasn't much let me tell you before he was fed the butt of his own weapon and forced to take a nap on the cold concrete floor with his arms wide apart and his feet crossed over each other. 

It actually kind of looked like he was happy to be there with his eyes closed; brows blissfully raised and stuck up, thick bottom lip that made him look as if he could swallow a whole fish.

"No wonder you're late, why this watch is exactly two days slow!" A haggard but sing song like voice called from the darkness.

Talk about goofballs.

It was the Mad Hatter, because all the better names and gimmicks were already taken at Arkham, as he came calmly walking from the darkness and into the gold hue of the spot light we were now under. He was slightly tipping his stupidly large top hat while flashing his buck toothed grin like as if he was all that, but then from behind him followed more spellbound dockworkers wearing equally stupid headgear. Their expressions were blank, mouths gaped and drooling, staring as if frightened by something above and around them. They walked as if hanging from puppeteer strings and had now quickly surrounded us.

OK, so maybe he might’ve been something after all, to be able to do all that and still look like a dork doing it, but now we were the ones back to back and ready for anything.

"You do have a regrettably large head, Batman," he was one to talk, before he gestured wide and snickered. "And these fine fellows would very much like to bat it.”

He then crossed his arms for his slave labor to rush past him and attack us, his overbite smile never leaving his face.

These were people, not crooks and so it was like a game of tag as we got to the business of plucking hats which was actually kind of fun I gotta admit, vaulting over shoulders and heads earning myself a collection of head warmers.

"Better hold on to your hat, Hatter! Cause we're coming for you next!" I chuckled as I plucked another one. I know, I'm a genius when it comes to this sort of stuff.

But what the Boss did next was beyond cool. Tossing a Batarang up to the final headlight while three, or was it four of Hatter's goons tore at his legs, arm and chest? But he still managed a direct hit plunging the whole warehouse into darkness.

It was our element now and the Mad Hatter knew it because that was when he made a run for it but the Boss was playing with him now as he let him make it outside through a backdoor.

The Mad Hatter was probably laughing to himself, thinking he had made a clean getaway. That is until 'He' had managed to get the drop on him, stifling any warm feelings he may of had at getting one over us because in just the few moments since the lights went out the dock workers were themselves again and wondering what they were doing there. That could be a job for the cops, to catch em' up on things.

I fired my grapnel to an open skylight and caught up to Him, from the rooftop I could see the Mad Hatter was sitting downcast in a loading area, his heavy looking top hat that lay by his feet in tatters looked as if a bear had gotten to it. But the forklift he was handcuffed to seemed to suit him more anyways. The Boss then made eye contact with me, signalling me to stay put and keep quiet as he then made a mad dash back to the warehouse.

I glanced over my shoulder to see I wasn't the only one who thought it a good idea to get out through the skylight. A thin, stick figure like shadow spotted me spotting it before making a dash for the other side of the roof. It looked like its fingertips carried stars under them as they sparkled in the moonlight before growing something that looked like a long mouse's tail from its left hand, swinging it back as if about to make it reach for something.

But He had just managed to get in front of it, a large stone wall looking down at the smaller shadow as if to remind it of the big bat symbol emblazoned across his chest. 'See, see this, this giant bat symbol across my huge pecks, it stands for don't mess with me, punk unless you like sucking hospital food through a straw and wearing plaster! Don't you know that I’m the Batman! The knuckle dusting, butt stomping, bullet chomping, sky diving without a parachute because they’re for wimps kind of crime fighter who just so happens to own the sickest ride this side of the world and probably could own his own giant, freaking huge stealth jet just for kicks one of a kind legend fighting back against the corrupt system, man.' Is what He meant it to mean. Duh!

I mean, how could whoever this was miss that.

One day I’ll have my own 'R' emblazoned across my own huge chest so that criminals can know I mean business. But for now I’ll have to wear in the small, little one I already have across my left abdomen. I was the deputy in this little outfit after all.

I came in closer to see just who it was who thought they could slip out from under our noses, especially while smelling of cheap perfume. Yuck!

It was a girl, in some sort of tight fitting cat suit that had a whip slung behind her neck as she casually held it in place between her shoulders. 

Ewww, gross.

The Boss now had his arms crossed against his chest as if telling her, 'fine if you're not impressed with the symbol then check out my ripped forearms, capeesh?'

Whatever deviousness she was spewing from those rose petal like lips, he was having none of it. Her wily charms wouldn't work on him, did I also forget to mention that he was 'girl proof,' too!

"….Hatter wasn't the first one who managed to swipe weapons from Thorne's shipment," I heard her say as I edged myself in a bit closer. "I found empty crates that should have been carrying explosives long before the crazy man in the hat ever got to them."

"And what did you expect to find, Catwoman?" He asked her the same way some teachers ask for overdue homework. Which was a good question, by the way. Just what 'was' this 'Cat'-woman's angle?

"My price for what I just told you," she said slowly while gazing into his chin. "Unless, of course, you have something else you'd like to give me?"

This whole time she had been talking to His jaw and now she seemed to be mesmerized by it.

So that's why He never covered that part of his face, his chin had the incredible power to hypnotize!

How awesome is that!

But wait a minute; she seemed to be trying to hypnotize Him back, staring at Him with her ridiculously big green eyes. It had become a standoff, a battle of wills, mind over matter, that sort of thing and only the strongest one would be able to overcome the other.

Come on Boss, you can do it! She's just a girl! And one of the bad guys to boot, bad guys never fought fair so imagine how unfair fighting a bad guy girl could be.

But they just kept on staring at each other, the pale moonlight and me the only spectators to their colossal battle that was like some deadly staring contest—to the death.

I know the Boss hadn't asked for my help and he was clearly holding his own but we didn't have all night, I had to do something. So to give my partner a fighting chance I mustered up all my courage and strength to ball my right hand into a tight fist, raised it up high and before this 'Cat'-woman could see it coming, I cleared my throat, loudly!

The Boss's chin rose just a bit higher, unimpressed by some two bit floozy in a cat suit. He's the Batman, remember?

My distraction had worked beautifully.

"So who's the kid? Is it your little brother or something?" She asked almost annoyed, jabbing a gloved thumb in my direction. Too bad, sister, your evil hypno-powers never had a chance.

And then she said with what sounded like mocking concern, “Oh, it's not 'yours', is it?"

And now what was that supposed to mean? She sounded almost disappointed. In what? Me? Like I care what she thinks!

"Not exactly," the Boss replied. Which was close enough.

Then without warning she turned those big green eyes of hers on me as she slowly slipped her fingers between her knees and bent down to my level, I suppose to try the same trick again.

Fat. Chance.

"And what does that small, little 'R' there on your chest stand for, kiddo," I wasn't giving her an inch. She brought up a silver nail to circle the insignia on my chest carefully. "Hmm, is it something like, 'Rodent Boy', perhaps?"

Oh lady, you got no idea.

"It's Robin, if you must know and I'm his partner," I replied.

"As in the bird?" She asked with a look in her eyes that said she was famished. She was taking the cat thing way too far. "How appetizing."

"No, as in the hero who robbed from the rich to give back to the poor," I replied proudly. I had come up with the name myself and the Boss approved, only our methods were a little different from the original Robin Hood. We were taking the fear out of the people and putting it back into the criminals. Not that this dumb broad would ever get it.

"Do tell," she said returning to her full height and placing her hands on her hips pretending to be impressed. "Well, I can relate to that."

She gave a sidelong glance from me to the Boss, "He even has your pout. Are you sure you two are not related?"

"I would know, wouldn't I," the World's Greatest Detective replied in stone.

Her demeanor seemed to change dramatically after that, almost as if she just remembered something and was happier for it.

"I was only being curious," she replied before saying to me for no reason at all, "You're one lucky kid, you know that? Ta."

And with that she performed a perfect triple back handspring to the edge of the roof and off it before striking out her whip and wrapping it around the nearest lamp post, swinging safely to the ground and landing light on her feet, crouching. She then ran off into the shadows between two shipping containers.

'Pffft'. No big deal, I can do that in my sleep. Maybe.

I quickly turned to give chase but I felt something heavy pull at my shoulder, disrupting my stride.

"Easy, Robin," the Boss said.

"But she's getting away!" I protested.

"Not really," he explained. "We'll keep finding her and she'll keep giving us information, until I say otherwise."

OK, I didn't entirely get it. The Boss was treating her like a house pet. Every time she appeared, she'd have some sort of offering, like a dead bird or a dead rat, or in this case a new lead on which to follow. They would then have a staring contest and then she would always be allowed to get away, scot-free.

Was I missing something? I swear, adults could be so weird sometimes. But that didn't matter now; we had missing explosives to find.

Still, I wanted to be sure, "So next time we catch her, right?"

But he was already off the roof and heading back towards the car.

Our next stop was the Commissioner's office on the top floor of the GCPD building, he wasn't expecting us.

I liked the police Commissioner, he always spoke fast but never lost his words.

"If anyone knows anything about the missing explosives," he said, "it's Manny 'The Mallet' Martellini. He's the inside man for everything legal and illegal that comes in from all along the west side, whoever has those explosives now, he would know something about it. Only problem is, he's gone missing, without a trace."

"Should you have your men start a sweep of the Gotham River for a body?" A voice came from the fogged glass door of the Commissioner's office, it was the new District Attorney, he was checking the hall way outside to make sure the Boss and I weren't spotted.

The Boss, me, Commissioner James Gordon and District Attorney Harvey Dent had formed what could be compared to a Posse. Gotham City was a dangerous town and it wasn't always the crooks out on the streets that we had to worry about, sometimes they were closer than you think and we were the inner circle, the only conscience this city had against an oncoming tidal wave of corruption.

"No," Gordon replied. "It's almost like someone's got him running scared, he's hiding somewhere. Think you can find him?"

That last part he had directed towards the two shadowy and incredibly handsome figures standing in the room. Us. 

The Boss and me operated outside the law to better serve the people, Gordon more than tolerated us, he understood why we had to do what we did and aided us in any way that he could.

Dent understood this too, he was like the Boss but in the court room and without His duplicitous nature, they could've been brothers in fact.

I'd even seen him around the Manor when the Boss was out of costume but it was never about business, they had been friends for a long time and Harvey would visit to get a load off or have a night out on the town, only difference I could make out between them was that one of them was keeping a big secret.

"I'll ask around," the Boss managed to put it mildly and we all knew what that meant, mild chance of 'cooperation' followed by a severe case of 'Butt kicking!'

That just left the stranger sitting on the wobbly chair next to the filing cabinets, close behind the Commissioner's desk.

It was just some kid dressed in a hoodie, jeans and runners. The way she sat there with her head down, hands clasped together on her lap and shoes barely able to touch the floor, you'd think she was in trouble. Caught for 'pilfering', I’d wager.

But then she looked up at me and I saw the resemblance inside the photo frame the Commissioner had on his desk. She matched the carrot colored hair, freckles and pale blue eyes perfectly, only thing she was missing from the photo was the big, broad smile but it seemed she had traded that for the dorky, black framed glasses instead.

Still, she took one look at me and I couldn't help but wear one of my dashing grins, those glasses really did look funny over those big blue eyes of hers, like two fish bowl glass bottoms. Then there it was, that smile just like in the photo and suddenly the glasses didn't seem so big. But it was more than that, she had managed to choke back a barely audible giggle and the smile was sucked back to a pained grin before those long lashes had closed off the light from her eyes.

I had done the same at that point, I knew I was a pretty funny guy, but what exactly did she find so funny about me? The suit didn't have a fly to be accidentally left down, so what gives?

I narrowed my gaze back at her but she didn't respond, her orange hair having almost veiled her face, I wanted to know more about this strange girl who thought I was either a class comedian or a goofy kid that looked funny in a red, green and yellow costume. She glanced once more at me and I froze, what was she thinking about me and why did I care so much?

What a scene, if we both suddenly and without warning started laughing at opposite ends of the room while the grownups were talking.

Maybe we could….

Get a grip, Grayson! This is serious!

The Commissioner had turned his attention to Harvey Dent after handing the Boss a photo of our guy, asking if he'd be able to keep Martellini behind bars and alive long enough to testify in court. I knew that was our cue to leave, the Commissioner never seemed to mind much when we dropped in or out unannounced, heh.

But on our silent way out and as we swung from our grapnel lines back to the car, I took a glance back to the Commissioner's office window and spotted that orange haired girl with the freckles and dorky glasses staring down at us. She had noticed us leave, and there it was again, that big, excited, happy grin on her face, just the way I remember the crowds used to smile and wonder in amazement at us back when we we're doing our trapeze act, when they were still….No!

Snap out of it, Dick!

The missing explosives were more important and I didn't need this right now.

Man, girls are the worst.

But for some reason that didn't stop me from taking one more look back up to where she was, I couldn't help but smile back.

It felt good.

The Boss explained that there was only one crook in town who could more than likely know where Manny 'The Mallet' Martellini was hiding, and that's where we were headed next, to the crook's secret hideout.

OK, so maybe it wasn't that secret, this rogue had apparently started trying to be on the up and up, by opening a club in midtown, along the lower east side of the Gotham River.

It was still under construction and wasn't due to officially open in a while but there was definitely some shady business going on in this place.

We scaled the side wall of the building under the cover of a darkened alleyway with our grapnel lines. This time we would enter through a small window to a floor that wasn't finished yet, sneak around and just maybe, get lucky in finding our man.

The Boss was just ahead of me and closer to our chosen entry point when suddenly, the side window swung open to reveal a broad shouldered thug who had somehow spotted our lines that we had hooked over the building's eaves.

"Hey, youse guys ain't supposed to be here, wha….ahhhh!"

Fortunately the Boss had already pulled him over the edge and latched a high tensile strength line to his ankles and tethered it to the window sill allowing the unfortunate thug to fall like a stone passed me and 'bonk' his forehead onto the sheer wall once the line had become taut, knocking him out.

Just as well, as I had my knockout gas spray ready to go from my utility belt if needed. Just why is it never anyone friendly to greet us from out of these windows, anyway?

Ah well.

We left the guy to hang and swing there like a large piece of bait as we finally made our way through the window and into the building.

The floor was dark and empty, must of just been a routine guard doing his rounds, unlucky for him.

We sneaked past similarly built guards as silent shadows that glided weightlessly from one darkened refuge to another until making our way to the eaves and rafters above the main ball room that was decked out with fancy tables and chairs.

There was also a giant iceberg chained up here for some reason.

Past a large, empty pool close to the dining area there was an open space filled with waitresses, musicians, more guards and even what looked to be patrons impatiently watching the large orchestra's bandstand that was also filled with musicians beyond them.

They were playing some piece of music on their instruments but the conductor's voice managed to echo above even them and to the rafters where we were hiding, he sounded furious and then I saw who it was as he turned to face the large crowd behind him, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot or better known as 'The Penguin'.

And there was really no other name for him, because that's what he looked like, a human bird in a tux and wearing a monocle over his right eye that magnified it wide just like a bird's.

"No, no, no, no, no!" His voice screamed as he tossed the sheet music into a whirlwind. "We are mere hours away from our fifth soft opening this week and you dodos still don't understand what I want. What am I saying, 'dodos' could do a better job and they're extinct! Which is what you'll be if you don't master Giovanni Bottesini's Double Bass Concerto Number two! Now once more from the top," his small coattails managed to swing up as he spun on one heel back to face the orchestra, raising his baton high.

"Uh, boss?" Began one of the thugs in among the crowd. I never thought such a big guy could sound so scared of such a little man. "Why are we doing this? We ah, never had to play this Giovanni Bots-whosits at our soft openings before. I'm not even sure people would come here to listen to that sort of stuff, uh, sir."

The Penguin's fat, greasy head almost turned right round like an owl's, his monocle zeroing in on the scared thug, "Well, if you morons could ever learn to appreciate fine music then maybe this excuse for an orchestra could play it better which in turn would allow the fair citizens of Gotham to hear and be smitten by the subtle nuances that should be at play here and not this clumsy, half hearted assault to my more than acoustically trained ears!"

He hoped down from his podium and then addressed all of them in the crowd, "But why should it just be me who tries to put a bit of culture and substance back into this declining and barbarous town! Play what you want and then when the execrable reviews come rushing in, you buffoons won't have two dimes to rub together once I’ve thrown you all out on to the streets!"

I actually thought they were playing pretty good, but what do I know about music. He then turned and snapped his fingers at one of the waitresses, "Ms. Peacock, I’ve just decided that your brother's substantial debts have finally come due and your dismal services are no longer required to pay for them, he will be receiving a visit later tonight from one of my more equivocal associates to settle his accounts. You are now dismissed."

The waitress he was talking to barely looked like she was in her senior year as she began to sob uncontrollably, "But….but…how is Eddie supposed to cover his….his gambling losses…"

"You should have thought of that before you decided to put on those extra five pounds, my dear."

Wow, just wow, I mean, look who's talking.

We watched the Penguin waddle his way from the crowd to a private elevator in a huff while the orchestra and crowd got back to making preparations for the club's soft reopening. I wasn't the only one who was mad at what he saw; I could barely keep up with the Boss as we made our way to Oswald's private office.

Like the Boss's namesake we glided in through a private balcony and into the office, it was fully furnished and complete unlike the rest of the club which was currently still under renovation and repairs. This place will never be finished.

But it was all business from here on in as we watched the fat man try to light a cigarette that was on the end of its thin holder, clenched between his shark like teeth. He was watching the jagged and smoking city skyline from the balcony opposite the smaller one we came in through.

Just as he got it going, a stiff breeze overhead put it out again, the Boss's doing. Then it was my turn, he tried to light it again and I then swung low over his head to put it out again.

He gritted his teeth with a growl, turning away from the balcony and back inside but before he could let out a frustrated yell he was hoisted up from his feet from a trip wire planted into the expensive ceiling.

He was now hanging upside down; his coattails making him look like he was doing his own comedic imitation of the dark knight who at that moment had reached out a dynamic arm of stone to steady the Penguin's uncontrolled sway from about his supposedly trendy but really tacky office space.

The Penguin found himself eyes to chin with the Batman, his long, toucan like nose the only thing between him and hard justice but I had to hand it to him, his arched brow had somehow managed to hold onto its monocle. It made him look pretty mad.

"Manny 'The Mallet' Martellini; where is he?" No messing around now.

"How should I know, he still owes me for getting him that position at the Dixon Docks."

The boss pushed him hard like a Tether Ball, allowing him to swing about the room some more before grabbing him again, "I'll see Mallet or your lunch, Penguin. It's up to you which you want to spew out first?"

The Penguin was looking a little green and his flabby cheeks appeared more full than normal, he had to let out something.

"He was only passing through here, but he's gone now!"

"Where?" But the Penguin was too busy holding in his lunch to reply.

The Boss pulled him past his shoulder getting ready to send him swinging again but the old bird managed to squawk, "I have it on good authority to know he's headed for Metropolis!"

The Boss released his grip and let him swing away again slowly before adding, "The girl out there you fired; cancel her brother's debt and keep her on staff," and with what almost sounded like an afterthought, "and make sure she gets a generous raise or I’ll know about it, got it?"

"I think I feel the pídàn eggs coming up," the swinging fat man burped.

"Good," the Boss replied before letting Cobblepot down unceremoniously.

We left the way we came but we weren't heading for Metropolis, the Boss had a hunch that the Mallet was closer than that and so once outside we waited by the back entrance that lead into the Club's kitchen. It wasn't long before the double doors burst open to reveal our man.

Manny 'The Mallet' Martellini was a tall, thin guy with kind of a wide head, guess that makes sense.

The Boss dropped down from the small porch in front of him, his inky black cape devouring his suit as his blank eyes narrowed sharply onto his prey.

Manny almost slipped back on to the concrete but managed to stretch his face back in primal fright and desperation as his arms and legs went wide, his torso twisting back before the rest of his body could follow. He bolted back into the kitchen and the chase was on.

Knocking waiters and chefs carrying trays and pots out of his way he made it through the double kitchen doors with a loud thump and onto the dance floor. We came quickly after him and we're met with a large group of Mafioso looking thugs staring death and murder back at us, as well as the other waitresses and early patrons looking at us like they saw a ghost.

"They don't look too happy to see us, do they?" I asked the Boss sarcastically.

"They've been at it all night, Robin."

"Well, so have we," I replied to his set up.

"Then we better let off some steam."

All at once I overheard someone in the orchestra ask another musician if they should leave but the other just said, "The Penguin would be pretty mad if we quit now, so just play something, man."

The orchestra broke out with a number that sounded a lot like a cross between 'Benny Goodman's Sing, Sing, Sing with a Swing and 'Royal Crown Revue's Big Boss Lee.' Ok, so maybe I knew a little about some music, but one thing was for sure, this was about to be the hottest scene in town.

The Mallet yelled a very angry, "Get em'," from behind a ton of goons and we were off to the races after that.

Speaking of the Penguin, I caught sight of him charging out of his private elevator carrying what looked to be an umbrella like as if it was a weapon of some kind; I mean how lame is that?

Oh, wait.

I leaped across a row of roulette tables just as they were bursting into splinters and lacquer from the bullets that fired out from the angry umbrella before reaching into my belt, taking one more leap and tossing three Shurikens back at him.

The penguin held up his 'Gunbrella' and extended it, allowing my Shurikens to get caught in its armored weave before pulling it closed again.

Now I want one of those.

I caught a glimpse of the Boss beating off a ton of guys like a, well, like a boss as he back handed one thug away and then delivered an uppercut to another before swinging one more over his shoulder and into a trio of goons. Another pulled a knife and tried to take a swipe at him before he caught his forearm and bicep in a two hand grip and proceeded to swing him off his feet, launching the Mafioso’s expensive suede shoes into the faces of even more Mafioso who were trying to rush him. Angry thugs were knocked back as the weights in the tips of his cape lashed out like a wild panther, agitating the air with the sound of a harsh storm.

Batman dropped the dizzy thug into the arms of another leaving him struggling with the dead weight before sending a hard side kick from out of his flowing cape into the dazed crook's backside and knocking them both to the floor. Even Ms. Peacock was happily placing bets and goading them on with the other waitresses on the Boss's odds at beating the house, literally.

"Get him, Roc!" Cried the Penguin.

A large, bald man with really broad shoulders and a hooked nose wearing a white dinner jacket and black pants pulled the other thugs aside to get a clear shot at the Boss. He must of been the club's bouncer, and boy was he big, with a body that started with narrow and tiny polished Florshiems before widening out to his broad, white shoulders and then shrinking again to his little angry head.

He looked like he could have been the Penguin's taller, heavier and nastier older brother.

"You come in here messin' up the boss's place then you better be ready to cough up for damages, freak!" He growled with a long finger pointed out to the hunched and dynamic cape and cowl that was standing in the middle of the dance floor, ready to pounce.

Penguin started snatching up the money that was being passed around in bets into his flipper like hands, babbling about odds with his 'Gunbrella' tucked under one arm but the fight had already started. I jumped and planted my right heel into the Penguin's back, knocking him off his feet and sending green notes into the air.

"Don't forget about me, Penguin!" I yelled, somersaulting over his flat body that was on its stomach. He came up with a growl, pulling his 'Gunbrella' out from under his arms but he was quickly swamped by the waitresses and other patrons tugging and pushing to reach for the money that was scattered around him and on his person.

I heard him let out a loud ostrich like cry as he was dragged back to the floor while some of his more loyal goons gave chase after me. My yellow cape waved them good bye as I ran past the still playing orchestra. I now thought they were 'really' good actually as I leaped and vaulted over a saxophone player's shoulders while the thugs were tearing the musicians aside and into each other after me. They still kept playing, though losing a few talents.

Further behind me, the Boss shouldered back his impressive cape and raised his fists in a fighting stance, Roc swiped his arms down like a bear trying to crush a piece of meat to its chest but the Boss twisted away before moving back in and delivering a meaty right hook to his face that was followed by a left to the nose. Roc wasn't deterred as he gave a thick slap to the Boss's left cheek knocking him back and losing some of his wind, even Manny 'The Mallet' was still hanging around goading Roc to, "come on; knock his lights out, Roc."

The boss needed my help, fast, but I had my own problems to deal with first. The four thugs and I had made it over and behind the orchestra's bandstand, I performed a back flip hand spring, launching both my heels into the closest thugs face sending him off his feet, but there was still three more of them to go.

And then I felt something telling me to take a glance behind me to which I saw a pulley system with a long metal chain that was hoisting up the giant iceberg suspended over the crowd. I guess it was to go into the indoor pool if they ever got that going. I quickly darted back, released the safety, grabbed hold of the chain and let it pull me up as the iceberg came racing down like a meteor.

But I would only let it go so far as after giving a smart salute to the three dumbfounded thugs staring up after me I pulled a Batarang from my belt that quickly swiped into shape like a switchblade before tossing it back down to catch one of the links in the chain, nailing it to the wall close to the pulley system and abruptly halting the decent of the iceberg that almost was the size of the whole dance floor. A loud gasp came over the crowd as they reached for the floor and I’m sure I heard someone yell, “Iceberg!" Roc just took a glance up behind him, mesmerized by the flying block of ice that nearly scraped the top of his bent nose.

The Boss took advantage as he delivered one righteous uppercut to Roc's broad upper jaw, then another left and right to the abdomen but Roc just looked down on him more annoyed than hurt as I leapt from the chain and for the drifting chunk of ice. Someone had to try and steer this thing away from the now fleeing crowd and I guess that had to be me since I was the 'genius' who set it off on its merry way. Man, I love this job!

I saw Roc hoist the Boss up off his feet with both hands clenched around his neck but that just made it easier for him to use two of his most deadliest weapons ever, his legs!

With gritted teeth and a blank stare that looked like he was about to pass out, the Boss launched his left boot into Roc's face and then the other before gripping the big guy's neck with his shin and calf in a tight squeeze.

They twisted around the dance floor caught in each other's grip, the Boss's cape flailing, the band still playing, the crowd screaming and the iceberg and me carelessly swaying high, which was kinda funny when you stop and think about it.

But really dangerous, too, so what was I doing again? Oh, that's right I better stop this thing. So I got into what was like an icy saddle near the front of the iceberg and by that I meant in the direction it was swaying, which was counter clockwise. I immediately wished I had suited up with the thermal tights instead though, as it was ridiculously cold under there but what were hot water bottles for, right?

I saw Roc smash the Boss's back side to the floor and still, neither relented but the Boss had managed to peel back the Roc's thumbs off his definitely sore by now, Adam's apple, and keep peeling. The bouncer's thumbs were bending back onto his own wrists now but that still wasn't enough, finally with his legs still around his throat, the Boss heaved and tossed Roc over himself, forcing him to release his grip.

And as for me, with a loud, "yahoo!"—like you wouldn't—I directed the swinging iceberg towards the kitchen doors, the orchestra still playing and following my wrangling intently from their seats through gaping eyes. Actually I don't think they've even blinked once up to this point.

I continued my advance on the kitchen doors when who should burst through one of them but the Penguin, with an olive heavy Martini in one hand and clutching his 'Gunbrella' in the other.

He was having a rough night, it seemed.

"More ice with your drink, Penguin?" I yelled from my freezing saddle as his mouth narrowed to an almost microscopically small dot while his pupil behind the monocle had also gone terribly tiny.

He let the door shut in his face, but that didn't stop me and the swinging iceberg from shearing off the kitchen doors from their hinges and sending up debris and I think the Penguin to fly back into the kitchen.

I let out a hearty chuckle as we veered off course, it was time to release this berg' as I twisted back and swung up a laser lined Batarang that sliced through the chain like a hot knife through butter and that's when I felt everything go weightless for just a moment before leaping from my saddle and back to the dance floor, striking a pose. The iceberg struck and skidded across the dining area, crushing tables, chairs, cutlery and food.

At the same time, the Boss was delivering a high kick to Roc's face causing him to stumble back closer to the orchestra's bandstand and who was now barely able to clench his fists since having his thumbs vigorously massaged and was very nearly exhausted. The Boss then delivered a tiger's paw to the bouncer's sternum knocking him further back before clasping his right fist in his left and leading up with his right, smacking him across the jaw. The blow had actually managed to take him off his feet.

Roc's colossal body fell and tumbled right into the middle of the bandstand causing it and what remained of its musicians to come crashing down like a house of cards all on top of each other.

A couple of weak and miserable toots from somebody's horn gave off a few pitiful, off-tune notes before finally deciding to give it up, but that was it, the music had definitely died now.

I knew he was only holding back with that mook, lulling him into a false sense of power before absolutely demolishing him.

The Boss's cape wrapped itself over his body as he straightened back up to his full height, basking him into the stuff of legend once more. Its pointed tips, reaching down like a referee's flag to silence all challengers who would come to suffer the same fate. But even that couldn't contain the energy swelling up inside him as he then shot a grapple line to the rafter above back into the darkness, only to come down again, deadlier and more terrifying than before. A dark star that had spread its points wide like sharp teeth towards the fleeing crowd, his cape becoming a gaping maw, swallowing Manny 'The Mallet' Martellini whole within itself and feasting on his muffled, fearful cries for mercy, savoring them before rising back up like a cocoon made up of leathery wings and into the cold void.

His cape. Just ate. A thug.

SICK!!!

"You, bird boy," I heard a voice cry from somewhere beside me, it was Oswald. "I expect to be reimbursed for the damages! Look what you two hoodlums did to my grand and beautiful establishment!"

I was staring at the large iceberg that had oh, so very nearly made it to that empty pool. And had actually somehow managed to catch on fire at the tip of its peak, too.

His tux was torn in the most embarrassing spots, the wing tips of his collar looked as if they were a dove taking flight, his hair at the sides was stuck trying to leap off his already bald skull, and his Dicky had rolled up to his double chin to reveal his proud girth.

But his now cracked monocle was still in place, so there was that.

He couldn't have looked more ridiculous! Plus he was shorter than me.

Yes!

I mean, it was a very important detail to point out, it gives more context. Kinda.

"Chill Oswald," I told him with a broad smile while raising my hands to keep him calm. "After all, 'we were only passing through.' Bye now."

I shot my grapnel to the rafters above me and I was gone as well. I knew this place would never catch on.

Getting to the roof, I saw the Boss's cape had already regurgitated 'The Mallet' as he was now standing over his limp body and holding him close by the collar.

"The missing explosives from Thorne's shipment," the Boss growled, "who has them?"

"He'll…he'll kill me, man!" The Mallet was just about brought to tears now. It was strange seeing a grown man cry.

"And I’ll make you hope that he does," the Boss replied sternly. "Unless I get the truth."

The Mallet caved after that, "it's the Joker, man. The Joker's going to blaze the whole financial district just for kicks. Says he's gonna 'watch some fireworks, tonight!'"

The Boss dropped him like a sack of fertilizer and we were off again.

The Joker, huh. I've been itching to get a piece of that clown. I mean, most crooks in this town felt they had to have a gimmick to get noticed but this guy had to be the lamest gimmick of them all, just bad makeup and a tacky purple suit mixed in with air horns and bad puns.

Even the Boss looked more annoyed than usual; the night would end with a D-Lister not even worth mentioning, since the Boss never mentioned the Joker at all. I had only heard about him on the news.

So he must have been no big deal, right?

Coming to the financial district, the Boss was already able to discern that there was trouble along a strip of tall office buildings. We fired our grappling lines to the cornice of the closest one and reeled ourselves to the top before vaulting over the side to the roof like we had done this a thousand times before, which we have.

I wasn't prepared for what we saw but the Boss was already working at freeing the hostages chained and bound by their necks within the waist height cage that was painted like candy cane. He came over the frightened people who appeared to be mothers, fathers, teenagers and children, like a billowing pillar of black smoke caught in the night air coming to deliver final judgment on them.

This Joker was not indiscriminate, it seemed.

The locks to the bizarre cage clicked open like a dog releasing its bite; they would be deemed worthy to live this night.

"Are you all alright?" The boss asked gravely as he worked at releasing their chains and collars.

A murmur of different voices managed to share their concerns before a bone chortling sound cut through the cold night air around us.

It was coming from a middle aged woman's collar who was still paralyzed with fear at the back of the cage, "whoa, Bats!" The manic, devil may care voice of the Joker yelled. "Now you know when the fox comes for the chicken coop, he's bound to lose at least one chickadee!"

He barely got the words out before he was overcome with a crescendo of laughter that was devoid of any good cheer. I couldn't decide whether he sounded sarcastic or whether he was just nuts.

This time neither the Boss nor myself were ready for what happened next as a spray of pale green gas hissed from the woman's collar and assaulted her face.

The Boss cleared the other hostages away from the flooding gas that engulfed the woman's body whole, gathering them behind his cape and out of range before placing, from his belt, a filtered respirator over his mouth and charging back into the cage to pull the final hostage free.

Emerging from the green cloud that had by now overtaken the cage whole, I couldn't help but draw closer to see if they were alright.

"Robin, stay back!" The Boss yelled. "Clear the hostages."

I didn't have to do much to keep the others back as I cordoned them off from what was happening behind me. But their faces had said it all, and against my better judgement I sneaked a glance back behind me. I knew I would never forget that pained, almost pleading shriek of uncontrolled laughter that had come from that poor woman this night. Or her face that I just managed to glimpse from behind the corrugated ends of the Boss's cape. It had gone bone white, her eyes blood shot and green as if the strain from their bulging had crushed the eye lids behind them and that clenched grin, as if she was all too terribly pleased with the pain that she must of been feeling. Stretched back behind the cheekbones by sharp, blood red lips she was now incapable of emoting anything else.

I did not know what superpower this Joker had but it was as if he was able to possess others just by hearing his taunting laughter and voice.

The Boss had bent over to her neck as if to deliver some sort of life saving vampire bite because after he had come back up, her laughter had subsided to a mild, if not equally chilling giggle. Her face was still frozen in crippling ecstasy but had somehow become less intense after this.

"Robin,” the Boss said evenly, bringing my mind back to this earth. "Get these people back to street level. They'll help you bring this woman down as well. I've already called for an ambulance to help her and them."

My mind was at the center of a storm of emotions, so I barely noticed the flash and distant pop of purple, green and red fireworks that were invading the night sky from the rooftops of other buildings.

I gave the bravest nod of compliance I could muster but I knew the Boss's white eyes could see right through me. 'Things would be alright,' they told me sternly. 'But only if you listen to what I tell you to do'. I quickly moved after that.

We heard the jeering voice of this crazed madman coming from all around us now, "I'm bringing new years early this year, Bats. Only problem is, no one wants to celebrate with me, even after all the trouble I went through to procure all these bombs and explosives. The nerve, I tell ya! But one way or another, though, this town's gonna celebrate with fireworks, or in ashes!"

And again that grating laugh broke out through the air, stabbing me between the ears and chest. The Boss just started running, his head bent almost to the level of his waist and barely visible between the night sky and his cape that was woven in some other realm of darkness. He was already over the parapet to the roof we were on, blinking out the display of garishly colored fireworks in the silhouette of his fully spread wings before making it to the roof of another building and bringing them back to his sides before taking off again into the darkness.

I helped the victims down the side of a fire escape, taking them to the ambulance that the Boss had called for before firing another line to the cornice of another building and using the grapple's momentum that was carrying me up to vault over its side and onto the roof.

Nailed it. Naturally.

But there may have been more hostages that needed rescuing, I thought. So from here I was able to scope out other rooftops and sure enough there was another candy cane colored cage on another roof about thirty meters ahead of me. Starting with a few steps back before taking a sustained dash, I leaped for the stabbing, cold, open air and strangely inviting darkness. My heart tickling my throat as if hanging by it for dear life.

I was carried by mere momentum between the glowing and glistening streets far below the financial district of Gotham city as I remembered that it was moments like this that I lived for, the rush, the control and the simple fact of knowing that when you were up here, it was only what you made of it. At least that's what I used to tell myself, now I imagined the further the leap I took, the more likely 'they' would be waiting for me on the other side ready to take me into their open arms. It was the prayer I made each time I was caught between mid-flight. Like a bird that relied on its wings to carry it through these sparse and intense moments.

It was here I was truly allowed to be free and even happy in anticipating whatever I wanted to be on the other side before taking a controlled shoulder roll onto the rooftop and coming up ready—waiting….

But not this time, the hostages needed my help and there would be no more I couldn't reach because I was not prepared. No, this time the Mad Hatters, Cat women, Penguins, Jokers and even the Zuccos of this world would not stand a chance against me.

Sucks to be them, I thought

I released the locks to the cage just as I saw the Boss do it and the hostages were almost free….

"And now just who could this be, I wonder?" That all too familiar, all to real voice came from behind me. I had froze, unable to move as I heard the slow clap of his shoes and spats against hard pavement edge there way closer towards me and the hostages. "Wait, wait, don't tell me. He's gone and outsourced his work to children now. Can't say I wish I hadn't thought of that. Well, you can just tell him that I'm not in the particular mood for entertaining children, so there. Besides, what do I look like to you, some sort of clown? Wait, don't answer that. Hmmm, well, judging by that peculiar and clashing getup….ahah! Of course, he's sent me a moving target. Aww, Bats, you really shouldn't have."

Then I heard the unmistakable cracking sound of a gun being cocked.

"Turn around, kid, so's uncle Joker can get a good look at you."

As much as it pained me to do anything this maniac said, I couldn't endanger the hostages. So I complied, slowly and with my arms raised.

Somehow he managed to look more deranged than in the pictures and footage I’ve seen on the news; a cackling ghost who's dripping red lips had managed to send him wild eyed drunk with ecstasy over the thought his appearance would rise out of others. He was also flanked by two stone serious looking goons that were armed at either side of him. Well, he was getting nothing from me, except maybe the sound of my heart banging out from between my ears and chest.

"Oooh," he began, raising a stained white glove to his yellow stained teeth that were like uneven slats in some moldy, old fence. He would have noticed my deep set scowl as I turned to face him. "What's the matter, kiddo, doncha' like fireworks?"

"Sure I do, but I think you've taken the term, 'captive audience' way too literally, man," I replied carefully.

He chucked up a blood curdling chuckle that caused him to squeeze his eyes shut and favor his gut with one hand while still managing to keep his gun pointed my way. He was pretending to barely be in control while still being completely in control.

"Seems we have a little comedian on our hands, boys," he said wiping fake tears from his yellow and narrow beady eyes before going too serious, which made me unsure about whether he was trying to be severe or just play acting. "Well let me tell you something, buster!" He growled through gritted teeth clenched so hard I thought they might break. "There's only room for one joker in this town who understands the difference between comedy and horror. See, there isn't one, it's all the same. You're always waiting with baited breath and dead eyes for the one in the crazy getup to deliver the punch line that you just know is going ta slay ya."

He had me dead to rights and he knew it, as he raised his cocked weapon directly towards me, between him and the hostages behind me. From behind the pistol he laughed so maniacally that I could feel his hot breath being carried on the air around me and threatening to drag us all down into the madness he wielded just as expertly as the descending darkness the Boss had honed in equal measure that was even now seeking to swallow his drowning laughter in its own gaping abyss.

There powers were equally matched if stacked against each other but it was the Boss who had the drop on them, and this time, they 'all' knew it!

It rained down Batarangs from the descending angel of vengeance, one for each of the thug's weapons, and the Joker's causing him to open fire on the ground. That still didn't prevent me from suddenly feeling like I had to throw up, just managing to keep it down. Luckily.

A wet crunch and one of the Joker's goons was already taken out of the fight as the other was practically hurled at the Boss by the Joker who was trying to put him between himself and the Batman who was quickly closing the small gap between them.

A swift uppercut, settled the second before He ordered me to finish releasing the hostages the same as before, except this time there would be no mistakes.

The Joker was already casting off inside an air balloon that was waiting for him at the edge of the building's parapet which I had somehow missed. This gross looking balloon was shaped as a caricature of the mad clown as if he was a winking cherub with tiny wings, long nose and hanging chin that was holding a small bow and arrow in one hand while blowing kisses down to Gotham City with the other. I mean, seriously, how 'did' I miss that!

The hostages were unhurt and would be able to help themselves down the fire escape, leaving me to go after the Joker once I had cuffed the goons. I was certain the Boss would need all the help he could get on this one.

The crazy air balloon had cast off from the parapet but not without gaining one more passenger who was dangling from one of its mooring lines. There is no doubt his technique with swinging from long ropes at dizzying heights would have made both my parents proud as I trailed after them from rooftop to rooftop just beside the ascending 'Joker Cherub'.

"Hey," I heard the Joker yell from his basket down to the Boss. "Get your own balloon!!!"

His face was met with a swinging Batarang that had managed to get him square in the face, knocking him back into the basket and buying the boss time enough to climb the rope he was swinging from after the cackling madman.

I noticed that the Batarang had also managed to rip into the space between the Joker Cherub's white cheeks allowing the hot air from between them to escape with a most unflattering sound and fashion.

Man, I love it when the Boss manages to make me laugh!

The Joker came up over the basket again, this time it looked like his red lips had smudged but in actual fact, it was his own blood dripping down the corner of his lip while his usually stylish and combed, sewer green hair was all a mess and waving to the wind. It somehow managed to make him look even crazier, if that was possible.

Raised above his head was a wicker basket, the same kind used for picnics as he tossed it down to hit the Boss square in the head before bursting open to lose all its stored cutlery, plates and picnic blanket to the city streets below but the Boss, who was still holding on, merely let out a small grunt. The Joker would have to hit him with something a lot heavier than that to take him down.

Next came the air horn, chattering teeth, whoopee cushion, rubber chicken, seahorse floaty and then the over sized, stuffed teddy bear that bounced off the Boss's shoulder with a squeak and a pre-recorded phrase about how much it loved him on its way down to be collected up by traffic.

This was absolute madness, did the Joker seriously expect to stop the Boss from getting to him with these weak attempts. Maybe he just wanted to make him laugh to death, hoping that would make him let go. But did this guy not realize that the Boss never laughed, was never ticklish and that he had sides’ way tighter than that Cherub's butt. 

Finally, as if he heard my thoughts, he stopped searching his pockets and raised his index finger with wicked glee flashed across his face at the coming revelation before reaching back down inside the basket, and with some real effort and exertion, pulled up an anvil to the edge of the basket.

Yes, one of those kinds of anvils, like in the cartoons.

"Hey, Batsy!" The Joker screamed. "Try chewing on this!"

He dropped the anvil over the edge, letting it fall like the dead weight it was and just as it looked like it had hit the Boss, a grapple line from the dark, flailing mass of his cape shot out to penetrate through the basket, gaining purchase. The Boss was swinging out from underneath the basket and up towards its side, just as the Joker was bringing up one of the stolen explosives.

"I 'was' planning on saving this till early new years, but since you can't seem to wait till then, I’ll let you have it now!" The Joker sneered.

So that was his plan, to drop bombs across the financial district during a fireworks display. But the Boss was already up and over, getting a clear shot at the Joker and firing his Bola launcher into the Joker's midsection, securing both explosive and clown to each other before landing into the basket.

I can only assume from here that the Boss proceeded to diffuse the rest of the remaining bombs that were inside the air balloon's basket. And that's why he didn't notice the Joker coming back up freed from the bola and now wielding a knife over his head.

I tried to call out to him but it was no good, he could not hear me and down the knife went, into the boss's back.

I heard a pained growl, like a wounded animal, then saw him back hand the Joker away to the other side of the basket. But that was not all, the air balloon was descending straight towards an oncoming sky scraper, about to crash.

"There it was," I heard the Joker say, referring to his bloodied knife as he held it up triumphantly. "It's always in the last place you, look!"

He strained that last word as he went in for another jab on the Boss, but while clutching his shoulder, stemming the flow of red that was pouring out over his dark cape, the boss delivered a perfect hook kick that disarmed the Joker from his blade before delivering another side kick to his gut.

Dangerously close to crashing into the sky scraper now, the Boss reached down in an attempt to rescue the Joker from his own stupidity but he was met with a blow to his shoulder as his opponent began to giggle with deranged glee before kicking him square in the chest and sending him over the edge of the air balloon's basket.

I was crouched on a sill between two statues holding up either corner of a cornice that were also stoically watching the whole scene play out with great interest as I saw my mentor, friend and brother plunge helplessly to be dashed across the city streets below.

Above me I caught the final glimpse of the Joker finally noticing where his air balloon was headed, too late.

"Heh, crap in a hat," was all he could say before his apparent demise as the air balloon finally crashed into the side of the building before going up into a ball of flames and a loud release of what I guess was dynamite. There was apparently still one more explosive that the Boss hadn't managed to disarm, no thanks to the Joker.

I saw the descending mass of flame and debris threatening to overtake the Boss's still unconscious and free falling body.

I had to save him. Fast!

And despite the condemning looks of the dynamically sculpted figures that stared either side of me with disapproval at my sudden rashness, I pulled a line from my belt and took the plunge from off the silent gargoyle in front of me, its frozen eyes and gaping maw locked in awe at my attempt to save one of our own. Stuff what they thought. I had managed to fasten the grapple around the Gargoyle's neck as I fell, before the line I held onto went taut from its anchor point.

I swung out towards him and all I could imagine was that I was actually saving 'them'.

My parents.

I had dreamed of this moment. That this time I would manage to reach them; to save them from falling endlessly, just as I needed to save Him now.

This was my moment and I could not fail, unless I wanted to be crushed underneath the falling ball of flame we were both now under.

So close, my arm outstretched to them. Just a little more….

Caught! I had him in my arms and in another moment the mass of screaming flame would have my line behind me and then both of us would be dragged down below with it.

So I let it go and worked the forward momentum we had built up from swinging out from underneath the fiery debris by pulling myself and him into a backward roll that would carry us further before holding onto him tight, making ourselves as small as we could possibly allow.

Small enough to fit straight through a small window with a sound that was like silently crushing crystal rather than breaking glass. Such was our speed as we went through it.

We landed inside some small and empty office space as I dragged the Boss onto his back and quickly tended to his shoulder wound while hitting a button on my belt that would alert Alfred to our location.

Finally, stupidly, as if it was an afterthought, I checked to see if he was still breathing.

He was not.

I pumped his broad chest with both hands clasped together over the symbol that was supposed to mean that he could never die, he was the Batman. The baddest, meanest, coolest, slickest super hero who also just happened to be the only person who got me, the real me and what I needed to do with my life after I had lost my parents the same way he did.

We were partners. The 'Dynamic Duo,' Alfred called us, and it wasn't supposed to end like this.

Not. Ever.

Please Bruce, don't leave me like my parents did, not like yours did.

My cheeks were burning as if they had been split down the middle of either side and my vision had practically gone into a blurry haze, but I didn't care!

I wasn't going to lose anyone again, ever again. So in a fit of rage and one more silent prayer, I slammed both gloves down hard onto his chest.

And that was it after that, we we're done.

I sat on the cold turn platform, my back against the side of the Batmobile with my head buried in the space behind my forearms.

Alfred had brought us home and the Batmobile, well, I guess it brought itself home. It must've had a mind of its own, so it was probably hurting as much as I was.

Between then and now it was all a blur, but when I saw Alfred make it into the office space, the first thing I was expecting him to do was chew me out, tell me it was all my fault, but he barely said a word and then we were out of there. He was with Him now, said he would 'do what he can' or something like that.

How long it has been, I could not tell. It always felt like night-time in the cave. It shouldn't take this long. He was supposed to be bullet proof; nothing was supposed to be able to hurt him. He was the Batman.

And I wasn't ready to lose another family.

In the dark place I had made for myself, I could feel someone's presence kneeling in front of me but I dared not look. Then I felt a warm hand at my shoulder and that managed to break me from my spell.

He had returned, he was only playing some cruel prank that I would have to get him back for! But it didn't matter, he was back, he was….Alfred.

His expression was not at all what I expected, tired and haggard, sure, but tempered with a reassuring smile and discerning eyes that looked so familiar, as if to tell me, 'Things would be alright.'

How could they be alright? It turns out the Batman was just that, a man.

Not some dark, unstoppable, avenging angel of the night with, like, a gazillion powers and gadgets! Just a man in a suit, who was vulnerable and could make mistakes. Some hero.

"I've taken the master upstairs and he is recovering soundly from his injuries," Alfred told me calmly. And just how did he manage to get him upstairs? Seems I was right to suspect there was more to this butler than anyone thought. Super strength, at least.

"What you did, young master Grayson, was incredibly foolhardy and reckless," here it comes. He was just waiting for us to get home before giving me a scolding lecture, which would probably have been rehearsed all in his head on the way here. "But also incredibly brave."

Huh?

"If not for your quick thinking and skill, I would be forced to break a promise I had made once to his father and place his son beside where he rests now. I never quite consented to this crusade Master Bruce took upon himself since the night his parents died and I was again hesitant to accept his judgement of taking you under his charge. But I understand that there are things in this world that don't always make sense and looking for the sane response on how to react or deal with them can be what ultimately defines one's character, however, let me assure you with my fullest confidence and gratitude, that he needs you and you need him. Thank you young Master Grayson. Thank you for saving his life. Now, can I get you anything?"

Wow. I had no idea what any of that meant.

Except for maybe the last part. So I said with a hoarse throat:

"Some….some Brownies might be….might be nice. Please."

"Of course," Alfred replied, coming back to his full posture, “but I will not tolerate you sitting here in this dark cave like the master tends to on one too many an occasion. They will be waiting for you upstairs in the kitchen, after you have changed into your regular attire. I would rather you keep the gallivanting for adventure in its proper place: down here and if you must, over rooftop or oscillating beneath gargoyles."

Alfred turned to leave but I had one altercation to make to his demands, “Alfred, can you please leave the Brownies by his bedroom door. I'd like to have them there."

He turned and merely nodded his head slowly with what I made out to be a small smile before making his way back up the winding stairwell to the mansion.

I waited a whole day and night out the front of Bruce's bedroom, keeping guard, waiting for him to wake up. I dared not leave his side in case something should happen to him or just in case, for the first time in his life, Alfred was wrong about something and Bruce was not 'recovering soundly.' In fact, it might have turned out to be the opposite. Or worse, he had snuck out the window to go crime fighting without me!

Then it happened, I don't know how or when but there he was, standing beside me while I was hunched over on the floor, against his door. I didn't even feel or hear it open. He was in his pajama robe while his right arm was in a sling and his forehead neatly bandaged, leaving only the tufts of his dark hair to hang out all messy like from the top of it.

It was strange seeing him like this, he 'was' human after all. But that still seemed so hard to believe yet it was true. The Batman was flesh and blood and not like that other guy in Metropolis. How could he be with a costume like that? But then I had thought the same thing about Bruce's too, so who knows.

"Alfred told me what you did," he said evenly while I got to my feet. Oh boy, here we go, if I didn't get it from Alfred I was definitely about to get it from him. "Was that a triple back somersault while in midair or a double?" He asked, almost like a kid asking a baseball player for tips on his game.

"A double, sir," I mildly responded, almost ashamed. What, I could do a triple if I had the right clearance but I didn't so sue me.

"Oh," he replied. I don't think he believed me. "Next time I want to see you do a triple."

Alfred had entered the hallway to announce that Bruce had a visitor, "A young lady has arrived to see you master Bruce, she neglected to offer her name but said you would remember if I mentioned something about 'playing hooky.'"

"I'll be right out Alfred," he replied almost cheerfully.

"I want you to remember something, Dick," it was amazing how he could swap so easily between playboy fop to brooding avenger. "What we do is dangerous, possibly the most dangerous thing any man can do. But it should always be about making a difference; whether it's just for one person or a million. Thank you for having my back, Dick. You've turned into one helluva partner."

He clasped a heavy, reassuring hand on my shoulder before getting back into character to meet his guest. I soon, followed after him to catch a glimpse of the news playing in one of the other rooms, '…although rebuilding to the city's financial district continues to go smoothly, the Gotham P.D. has yet to find any trace of the Joker's body…."

That figures.

Bruce's voice from the front entrance then caught my attention.

"Tina!" He sounded really pleased, but not really. "No? Tonya, right? Guess it doesn't matter, I am ridiculously rich, after all."

A round of giddy laughter soon followed, from him, and his guest. Guess all of real life was play acting, most of the time.

But one thing was for sure; my perception of the Batman was a lot clearer now. What we did wasn't a game, it was serious, deadly so.

And the Batman was not invincible, none of us were. My dream of him being some sort of god tier superhero was wrong. We had no real advantage out there but our wits and each other. We were flying by the seat of our pants and that's when I realized something very important.

What we did, and what 'He' did; snatching this city's soul from the fiery tongues of madness that threatened to engulf its citizens into its glowing embers of despair was no picnic. But that's what made him so awesome. He was the Batman, a superhero that didn't need no x-ray vision or super speed to make him the best. Heck, not even a golden lasso of truth could compensate for his keen mind and razor sharp skills in deduction.

He wasn't perfect, but he was who he was anyway. That's just what made him more than a hero, to go headlong into that yawning abyss, against the odds, with no powers just his will and imagination to bring back the light that gave him his form and substance. That's what made him legend.

THE END


End file.
